Only Once
by No.13
Summary: The consequences of an everyday argument bring Haruka to one important conclusion...


The day I'll rule the world I'll probably own this series, too. -

But for today this little fic has to suffice.

Hope you'll enjoy it.

* * *

**Only Once**

„Are we friends?"

Lost once more deep within his own thoughts Haruka never noticed how tentative Kantarou asked the question. Consequently he never turned around, never saw the pensieve frown upon the young face of his master, and thus replied without any consideration:

"Why ?"

* * *

Later in the afternoon Haruka returned, encountering Yoko, who was just finishing with her cleaning. The laundry was hung out in the back yard, swaying gently in a fresh autumn wind and the fox spirit seemed confused by his presence.

"Haruka -chan? What are you doing here?" ,she asked, blinking, "Did you already finish the job?"

Now Haruka himself was surprised by her assumption, drawing his brows together – an expression, Yoko understood at once.

"You didn't leave Kan-chan to do the work alone, did you?"

The subtle signs of anger in her voice had even the great and almost-omnipotent Onikui Tengu step back and raise his hands, gesturing helplessly.

"What job?"

And upon hearing this, Yoko set the broom aside with a loud bang, bestowing one deep, scathing look on Haruka as if daring him to contradict her.

"You upset him again, didn't you?", she sighed, "Haruka-chan, I admit, living with Kan-chan isn't always easy and sometimes he is demanding a lot of us. But, you know, we're about all he has. You've seen how most people react to youkai – either they deny our existence or they deem us evil and condemn all who claim something else. In hindsight, it's really too much to be there for Kan-chan – it's only for one lifetime and it's not as if there wasn't plenty of time left for ourselves after his death…"

Hearing Yokos wistful tone made Haruka's stomach clench. Something was on Yoko's mind, she usually wasn't that contemplative, neither could he remember her ever mentioning what was inevitable. So he waited patiently for her to continue.

"Haven't you seen it?", she demanded, a hysterical edge to her voice, "Kan-chan isn't taking care of himself, again. And now he's gone out all alone and you know …"

Yes, Haruka knew indeed. How often had he had to push his master aside in a split second to safe him from certain death by one-or-another demon that hadn't wanted to be talked out of its desire for blood and destruction. How often had he scolded that carelessness…

… only to be faced with grim determination in red eyes, saying that he'd stick to his approach no matter what happened. No violence against any living, feeling being unless absolutely necessary – which in Kantarou's case meant somebody else was being threatened. He'd keep to his principles – even if they'd kill him.

Closing his eyes, Haruka banished the nightmarish images haunting his mind.

"When did he leave?"

Yoko avoided his eyes, opting to stare worriedly at thick grey rainclouds sailing high above their heads.

"After lunch.", she replied and her words were like icy water dousing the tengu's head, freezing his body to the spot. Shock surged through him, coupled with worry and fear.

"That's almost five hours ago…"

Yoko nodded, twisting her kimono's sleeve nervously. "It's not even far away…", she whispered.

Gathering himself Haruka pressed his lips into a thin line. "Yoko…", he said deliberately, "Please fetch me the address. I'm going after the idiot."

* * *

Haruka had been fearing the worst upon reaching the location. Banging on the front door, he readied his staff, preparing for entering by violence if necessary. Sweat was beading on his forehead and the flight through the rough weather had left him looking ragged and disshelved, yet right now he could care less for his appearance.

Even thought he wouldn't admit it openly, he was worried.

It was just too much like his stupid master to run off and get into trouble, pretending that everything was perfect.

A maid opened the door, and instinctively took one step back after looking into Haruka's face.

"Mister…?", she uttered shakily. Confusion and fear had her clutching her apron between shaking fingers.

"Where's Kantarou?" ,Haruka demanded harshly, not caring if he was scaring her. Kantarou would be scolding him should he ever hear of this, but that only served to fuel Haruka's anxiousness.

Would, should, those were horribly uncertain terms and right now Haruka wished for nothing more than reassurance.

"You mean Ichinomiya-sensei?", she squealed and hurried to add: "He left roughly an hour ago after finishing the exorcism, even though the Master would rather he had stayed. Because he was really pale and swaying on his feet, but he insisted …"

She trailed off, starring wide-eyed at Haruka.

Who envisioned the familiar picture of Kantarou after a demanding exorcism; the man couldn't be trusted with standing upright in this condition.

Yoko would have his head if she found out.

"Damn that man!", cursing, Haruka gave up consideration for the poor woman and spread his wings in front of her. She gave one last terrified screech and fainted promptly.

* * *

Kantarou wasn't really sure if he was headed into the right direction. The street wouldn't stop spinning and he found he couldn't raise his head without experiencing a stomach-wrenching bout of nausea.

Not that there was anything currently filling his stomach; Yoko had been nagging him about a money-shortage again, so to avoid further headaches, he had put his meals subtly back into the storeroom – and until now, no one had noticed.

And after some time his stomach had gotten used to smaller amounts of food; even if his clothes currently felt three sizes too large.

As well as too cold. Not even the yukata the patron had given to him as additional payment could keep off the icy wind of late October. He was shivering from head to toe, felt dizzy, drained and completely miserable.

It didn't even matter that he had no idea where he going – home was the best idea, he knew that somewhere in the back of his mind, but the pounding in his head made hell out of concentrating. Clearing away the fog blinding his senses – he thought he heard voices, but couldn't make out other people – became impossible. Putting on foot in front of the other was all he could do, praying he'd reach a warm haven in the end.

All of a sudden there were rough hands grabbing the front of his yukata, pulling him into a dark alley. Blurry faces, the uncertain impression of ill intentions, yet Kantarou had always expected the best of Youkai and humans alike so he didn't worry for his own safety. Perhaps those people were concerned about his well-being, even thought the violent shaking wasn't helping his sudden sense of vertigo.

Colours were starting to blend together, somebody was shouting at him and he knew his health was failing him. Perhaps he was already too far gone, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Something caught the dim light, the glint of polished steel in the gloom of a sleazy neighbourhood – no, those were no nice fellows. They said things about money, made demands. Kantarou felt like smiling – oh, he understood their sentiments only too well. Life without money wasn't exactly easy. But somehow this only served to enrage these men even more.

A harsh blow dealt to his head lifted the veil of confusion momentarily. Kantarou realized he was badly outnumbered and far away from the main roads. And sick. Not that he would have been capable of fending them off healthy – he just wasn't very strong physically – but he might have gotten out of it via talking. Or running.

The next blow collided squarely with his ribs, he choked and collapsed, blackness threatening to engulf his vision completely.

Angry voices penetrated the painful haze, he was unable to stand again, not even had they left him alone. Bowing his head in defeat, Kantarou closed his eyes and took whatever was dealt out; not feeling the pain anymore. His thoughts were drifting at an alarming rate into familiar territory, back to Haruka's grumpiness and Yoko's gentle smile. Sensations from the outside, the cold and his aching body were fading away, replaced by warm images dancing within a feverish imagination, calling him away from a harsh and unfriendly reality. With relief Kantarou gave into them.

In truth home had never been so far away.

* * *

Flapping his wings, Haruka gained height, carefully scanning the streets below for any sign of the bout of easily recognizable silver hair. Worry was clouding his perception, but he found himself incapable of suppressing those instincts.

At least he wasn't haunted by all those "What if's" as humans frequently were. Keeping firmly focused on the task stopped his thoughts from wandering.

Only sometimes, late at night, when he couldn't sleep, Haruka found himself pondering what would have happened if only one little thing within a chain of events would have been altered. If he hadn't pushed Kantarou out of one or another oni's path in time.

Though now, there were no oni.

There were streets and streets within the grizzly weather, muddy and strewn with few people – but none had silver hair.

Kantarou wasn't on the main roads, which equalled "not good" within Haruka's mind.

He almost dismissed the colourful spread-out Yukata on the ground in an alley, seeing as it looked much too fancy to belong to Kantarou. However he recognized the hair.

Yoko had once commented that his hair and eye colour distinguished Kantarou from other humans and had always been a cause for others to avoid this odd little boy; he just wasn't normal. Haruka on the other hand found those features practical – how else would he be able to differentiate his foolish master from all those other humans populating the roads.

A gust of ice went through his veins. The figure was on the ground, unmoving. However about five other persons were surrounding him…

Cold rage build up and Haruka descended upon them like a creature from hell. (Rosalie's tales about Lucifer had been quite helpful when it came to creating an appearance, after all).

Black wings spread wide, eyes glowing with something fiercer than human, something animalistic and untamed, staff in hand, sizzling with overflowing power, he was the picture of all those legends.

The sky darkened, those stupid humans had the guts to stare in terrified surprise and deadly fascination at those wings, mesmerized in the face of evil, of power far beyond their grasp or comprehension.

Crackling with power Haruka paid them one scathing glare, before raising his staff.

Kantarou blinked, summoned one last bout of strength to lift his head. He recognized that swishing, that compression of the air – and there was his childhood dream. A dazed smile played on split, bloody lips.

"Onigui… Tengu…"

The staff was brought down, judgement was upon the five thugs like the fire from hell, the ground shook and several nearby windows shattered from the force. Their screams were audible far across the town.

And left was only scorched ground, reeking of death and destruction.

Worriedly, Kantarou raised a hand, dimly recognizing the sharpening of Harukas hands into claws, the transformation of his friend – it shouldn't happen because of him. Ignoring the stabs of pain in his ribs, he pulled himself forward, but couldn't raise his voice. He barley managed one choked: "Haruka..", before all strength fled him again.

It was enough.

Claws turned back into long fingers, the wild gleam left the tengu's eyes. The mad desire for revenge and destruction evaporated and he dropped to his knees beside the still body of his master.

There was a thin trail of blood spreading across that fine silver hair, visible signs of abuse bruising the delicate face and there was more damage hidden beneath layers of clothes. Another thing Haruka noticed with concern was how all those clothes were hanging off Kantarou's thin frame, how much more present the outline of bones beneath the skin had become.

In a rare gesture of kindness Haruka reached for one frail hand and grasped it tightly. Kantarou immediately stiffened and his eyes opened, slowly focusing on Haruka.

"You're … here…"

A smile despite the situation, a smile hiding the pain behind that happy mask.

And looking into those half-lidded, trusting red eyes made Haruka feel warm deep inside. No matter how fiercely he denied it, no matter how often he ranted about the foolishness of his master – their relationship had come a long way. The anger at being bound by a name was only a distant memory now, even if Haruka still felt awkward about the name itself. But strange as it was, he realized that he had come to care for a human being, despite knowing how futile any sort of friendship between human and youkai were. Bound to failure, bound to hurt in the end, yet for the moment death presented no barrier.

And so, Haruka rationalized, he could as well give in – privately, of course, nobody else needed to know – and admit that he was concerned. That Kantarou had become a precious person after all.

Cradling the limp body close to his chest, the tengu promised: "I'll take you home."

Kantarou blinked, smiled happily – this time for real – and then closed his eyes in exhaustion, head falling against Haruka's shoulder.

The message had been understood, the unvoiced vow thankfully accepted.

"I'll take care of you."

* * *

Long after they had returned home and Yoko had taken care of Kantarou's injuries, Haruka had taken to sitting upon his usual perch on the roof, watching thick clouds rolling over a dark sky. Every now and then a star could be seen blinking through the darkness.

"Friends…", thought Haruka, contemplating Kantarou's earlier question. Gazing above, he couldn't help but smile.

"Little fool.", he muttered, compassionately, "Friends, of course. But perhaps family might be a better word after all."

**Fin**

* * *

So, that's it. Please r 'n r. 


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